


Exhaustion

by Hstaya



Series: Phantom one-shots [5]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Exhaustion, Gen, Interrogation, Kidnapped, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 17:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5137160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hstaya/pseuds/Hstaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I thought you weren’t in the mood for jokes today?” Danny said, ignoring how his voice squeaked with exhaustion.<br/>The Red Huntress straightened, both hands on her hips now. Her lips quirked into a dangerous smile. “I think my mood’s improved.”<br/>--<br/>Danny hasn't slept in thirty hours and Valerie finds him collapsed on a roof top. She deploys some unconventional interrogation tactics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exhaustion

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a series that is set three years ahead of cannon. Phantom Planet happened but no one, including Valerie, found out about Danny or Vlad. Meaning Val is sill chasing poor Danny.
> 
> Danny and Sam are together, though Sam's only mentioned. There isn't meant to be any sexual tension between Danny and Val, but if that's what tickles your fancy you could read it like that. Hopefully you enjoy!

Danny was barely functioning. Usually when he said he’d had no sleep the night previously he meant he’d had a few hours at least. This time he meant it literally. He’d snatched a half-hour doze in English class, but had been prodded awake and given afternoon detention by Mr. Lancer. He’d dozed again during his punishment, and had been surprised when Mr. Lancer had woken him up and excused him early with kind eyes, telling him to just go home and sleep. That made about forty-five minutes’ dozing in total in just over thirty hours. 

Oh, yay.

When outside, Danny was genuinely surprised when he found he could not only change into his alter ego but also fly, albeit poorly. He kept having to phase through trees that he didn’t have the energy to dodge on his way home, but otherwise he _was_ technically airborne. 

Technically.

His backpack weighed him down as if he had Tucker’s PDA collection stuffed in there. His spine throbbed like Vlad had been using it as target practice for his ectoblasts. His ghost form didn’t usually get sore, and yet every part of him was aching with fatigue. It only dawned on him exactly _how_ sleep deprived he was when he realised he was staring at the sky with cold concrete under his head.

He blinked. Once. Twice. He shot up and immediately regretted it as fire tore through his muscles. His arms couldn’t support him and he collapsed back down again. The world was spinning, and he could feel bile sloshing around in his stomach. His ‘little sparkly friends’, as Tucker called the twinkles dancing around the edges of his vision, and the heavy pounding behind his eyes heralded a swiftly developing migraine. Slowly turning his head from side to side he recognised the building he was lying face-up on. It wasn’t too far from the school, and en-route to FentonWorks. Had he fallen asleep mid-flight and dropped out of the sky?

Danny tried to get up again but the world spun violently and he felt a sticky warmth shoot up his throat. Eyes widening with realisation he forced his head away from his body and threw up, coughing and scooting away afterwards. He’d barely had anything to eat all day. That probably wasn’t helping. Something dry to chew on and several glasses of water when he got home should counter the nausea. First though, a little voice in the back of his head scowled, you have to _get_ home. Danny groaned and rolled over, covering his face with his hands. He didn’t even have the energy to sit up, let alone fly. His best option once the world stopped spinning would be to get onto the footpath and find a bus to catch. He lay there for a few moments, trying to centre himself, when he heard a loud _“Ew!”_ from above. Groaning again, he parted his fingers, already recognizing the voice but wanting visual confirmation anyway.

“Since when do ghosts _barf?_ ” the Red Huntress spat, ecto-gun aimed straight at him. Danny felt panic flutter through his chest. He was way too tired to get away. Time to employ that cocky attitude, then.  
“Since the Bile Revolution in 1958,” he countered, trying for a grin but with half-lidded eyes he doubted it was effective. The Huntress brought her hoverboard lower, cocking the oversized gun she had in her hands.  
“Not in the mood for jokes today, ghost,” she growled, charging up the weapon with a far-too-familiar high-pitched whirring. Danny tried to put up his hands in mock surrender but they felt like lead. He turned his head to the side, squeezing his eyes shut. No witty remarks were coming to mind. There was no energy in his limbs, and he could feel dark fuzziness encroaching on the edges of his mind. He fought it off with a vengeance. He heard Valerie bring her board to hover just above him and felt the cold barrel of her gun slip under his chin.  
“Any last words?” she asked, self-satisfied poison dripping from her tone. Danny willed himself to phase through the roof of the building but barely felt a twinge from his body at that particular request. His stomach lurched again and his eyes shot open. He pushed himself onto his side, ignoring Valerie’s death threats, and pulled himself up as best he could. He retched again, but his stomach’s contents were essentially empty and so all that came up was faintly green-tinted bile. He groaned and collapsed again, trying to move away from the stinking puddle beside his head. He cracked open an eye to see a faintly concerned expression on Valerie’s face. His dazed mind wondered if it was just maternal instincts or if she genuinely cared until he felt his stomach gurgle threateningly. He felt the bile run up his throat but managed to keep it down this time.   
_I am never going twenty-four hours without sleep again._

“Phantom?” the huntress asked carefully. Her weapon was drawn back slightly.  
“Just put me out of my misery already.”   
Danny immediately regretted saying it when she raised the weapon again.   
“No, no no no no! That was a joke! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”  
Valerie hefted the gun over her shoulder with a huff and retracted her board, landing next to his shoulders, carefully avoiding the faintly glowing puddle of bile. She placed a hand on her hip as Danny’s eyes wearily followed her movements.  
“What are you, sick?” she said, almost to herself. She knelt down and reached for him. Danny immediately tried to move away but someone had turned him to lead and he found he could barely flinch. She rested the back of her hand against his forehead. The coolness was wonderful, but Danny scowled anyway.  
“If you’re not going to shoot me please just _leave_ ,” he groaned. Valerie frowned.  
“You’re really warm,” she said, pausing. “You know, for a ghost.”  
“I’m not _sick_ ,” Danny said, trying his hardest to glare. Judging by the Huntress’ reaction – or lack there-of – it was largely ineffective. “I’m just _tired._ ”  
Valerie pulled back. “Since when do ghosts sleep?”  
Danny blinked. Whoops. He tried his best to grin. “Since the Sleep Referendum of 1927?”  
“Very funny, ghost,” Valerie said. Despite the tone she seemed to actually be repressing a laugh.

“I thought you weren’t in the mood for jokes today?”  
The Red Huntress straightened, both hands on her hips now. Her lips quirked into a dangerous smile. “I think my mood’s improved.”  
Black-gloved hands reached for him. Danny tried to scramble away but his back protested so loudly that he let out a squawk of pain. His eyes squeezed shut as his stomach’s fluids threatened to make yet another comeback, and he had the vague sensation of being slung over Valerie’s shoulder. Panic reared its ugly head when he heard the jets under her hoverboard start up. Danny squirmed before being thrown bodily onto the board. He felt something being tied around his arms and torso as they shot through the air, and braced himself against the electrical shock that was generally involved with a situation like this. None came. He gingerly opened an eye to look at Valerie.  
“No shocks?” he managed. A wave of dizziness hit him and he lay back on the board, thankful for the cool metal. He heard her scoff.  
“I doubt even tying you up was necessary,” she said. “You look terrible.”  
“Gee, thanks,” Danny moaned, turning over as best he could. “S’where are you taking me?”  
“Somewhere private,” Valerie grinned. “Where we can have a little _chat._ ”  
“Oh no,” Danny said. “Any time but now.”  
He was just so _tired_.  
“You don’t get a choice in the matter,” Valerie snapped. Danny turned his face to look at the afternoon sky rushing past above them.

The ghost boy sat up, immediately regretting it when the world spun. There was a spooky familiarity to that sensation.  
He was really warm. That was what he was immediately aware of. A bag of frozen peas lay across his chest, where he guessed his ghost core was. That was seriously helping with the warmth, as was the cool table he was lying on.

Danny had a distinct sense of Deja-vu. 

He tried to stutter out a few syllables. “Wha… where…”  
“Somewhere private, remember?”  
Danny tilted his head, seeing the Red Huntress walking towards him. He started to become aware of his surroundings. He was sprawled out on a table belly-up in what looked like an old basement, different to the one Valerie had taken him to during the incident with Dani, but with certain similarities. He had a moment of heart-stopping panic when he remembered that fateful day as well as noticing his lain-out position on the table, but he quickly realised that he wasn’t strapped down in any way. He tried to move, but felt a wave of nausea flood him. He held it down defiantly. Well, he wasn’t held down in any _physical_ way at least.

Valerie was standing over him now, a contemplative look creasing her features. Danny groaned and covered his face with his hands. The movement sent fire up his arms and he hissed at the pain.  
“Please just let me _sleep_ ,” he muttered into his palms.  
“You’ve been sleeping for hours,” Valerie said quietly. Cold dread filled his core. She couldn’t be serious. He peaked at her through white-gloved fingers. She was serious. Oh god. What were his parents going to think?  
Another thought struck him. “And I’m still ali-… You haven’t destroyed me?”  
As he shifted he was reminded of the peas. Catching onto his train of thought Valerie smirked.  
“A bit of the opposite,” she said. The Huntress pulled up a stool and sat across from him. “You were overheating, badly. This seemed to help.”  
Danny blinked at her, unsure. “Uh, thanks, but why?”  
“A trade,” she said, shrugging. “You keep claiming you’re a ‘hero’, and heroes are true to their word. Honourable.”  
“As I’ve proved in the past,” Danny frowned, thinking of the Dani incident a few years back again. A lot had changed in three years. “So?”  
“So, I think I just stopped your core from overheating and destabilising,” she said. “I just saved your after-life. And I want something in return.”

Danny shot her a deadpanned look. “You remember this is _after_ kidnapping me, yeah? Personally I’d call this even.”  
Valerie shrugged. “I thought you might see it like that. But there’s more than one way to get the information I want.”  
Danny shivered at the tone, vividly remembering the volts of electricity she’d sent through him last time he was in this sort of situation. He tried desperately to sit up but exhaustion dug its burning claws into him and he fell back down with an undignified squawk.   
“Pathetic,” he heard Valerie say as she stood up.   
“Ged ’way from me,” he slurred, blackness threatening his vision again. He felt cold hands on his shoulders and tensed, reading himself for pain. He found himself being turned over, Valerie letting out an _oomph! Why’d I pick the ghost with a realistic weight-to-mass ratio?_ as she straightened him on the table. Danny tried desperately to shift himself upwards but a heavy palm between his shoulder blades destroyed that notion. He could feel panic rising in his chest.

“Does your shirt come off?”

The question caught him seriously off guard.  
“I’m sorry, what?” he spluttered.  
“Does your shirt come off or is it attached to your skin?”  
“The hell should I tell you?!”  
“Because if it _is_ attached to you it’ll hurt if I take it off,” Valerie said lowly. Danny gulped.  
“And why exactly would you be doing that?”  
“I’ve been talking to Maddie Fenton,” she said. Danny swallowed hard again. That didn’t bode well. The Huntress continued. “And she’s being doing some research on you. Turns out you’re different from a lot of other ghosts. You act like you can actually feel, both emotionally and physically, and on top of that Mrs. Fenton said that she was reviewing some amateur footage of you the other day and noticed that you _bruised._ ”  
Her fingers ghosted over a dark patch of skin on the back of his neck. Danny shivered.   
“As I can see personally. She seemed to think your mimicry of the human body was the best she’d seen in any ghost. She figures you even have muscle structures from what she’s observed.”  
“Your point?” Danny hissed. “I obviously know all of that.”  
Valerie paused, her voice dropping an octave. “With all that ghost fighting you do you must get pretty sore. I know I do. I figure what you need to get back on your feet is a little help relaxing.”

Danny shivered again. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came. His tongue felt too big for his mouth. After a few moments he managed, “So you’re not going to electrocute me?”  
“No, ghost boy,” she said, and Danny could _hear_ the smile. “So, you going to tell me if your shirt comes off or am I going to figure it out myself?”  
Danny sighed, exhaustion forcing him to relent. “Zipper. Down the front. It’s a one-suit.”  
He felt himself being turned over again and Valerie unzipped the black material, peeling it away from his shoulders and arms to leave it bunched around his waist. Danny turned his head away, blushing at the thought of what Sam would think of this and trying his best to ignore Valerie. Her staring was disconcerting to say the least. He felt her fingers trace his ribs and knew with a jolt what she was looking at.  
“Since when do ghosts _scar?_ ” she gasped. Danny couldn’t help himself. Third time’s the charm.  
“Since legislation on ghost scarring was implemented in 1976 I think,” he grinned. “Or was it 1977? Darn, I can _never_ remember.”  
Val’s silence was somewhat worrisome.  
“You want me to point out which ones are from you?” he said, voice hoarse from tiredness. “Your aim isn’t _always_ terrible, you know.”  
“Shut up,” Valerie snapped, and Danny felt himself being turned over a third time. The cold from the table against his skin was more than pleasant. “Oh god, there’s more on your back.”  
“Is that really surprising?” Danny frowned. “Seriously. I have half the Ghost Zone after me, plus you, Plasmius, the Fentons, the GIW… need I go on?”  
“Plasmius?” Valerie questioned. “Why differentiate him from every other ghost?”  
Danny mentally slapped himself. He was letting too much slip. That was probably Valerie’s plan, now he thought about it. Lull him into false sense of security to ease the information out of him. He’d have to watch his words. Carefully.  
“I get along with him… _worse_... than I do with any other ghost,” Danny said carefully. Technically that wasn’t a lie. He could feel Valerie’s frown burn through the back of his skull, but she seemed to let it drop.

“So ghosts get tired, sleep, throw up, and scar, ey?” she said. Danny watched as she threw her gloves on a nearby table. “Or is that just you?”  
His throat went dry, eyes fixed on her bare hands. “By relax what exactly did you mean?”  
Fire ran through him as she rubbed her thumbs along the edges of his shoulder blades. He let out a hiss of pain.   
“You didn’t answer my question, ghost,” she said. “I’m doing you a favour, and I’m trading it for information. Now be a good little ghost boy and tell me.”  
The fire was beginning to die down to a pleasant burn. He could feel himself relaxing already as she worked on the knots in his shoulders. His eyes slid shut and he let out a quiet moan.  
“Phantom?”  
“Hmm?”  
“Do I have to repeat myself?”  
Her fingers dug into the flesh at the base of his spine. Danny stifled a groan at the relief it provided.  
“Mm-hmm.”  
The Huntress let out a sigh, pressing more lightly against his shoulders, giving him a chance to focus on her words instead of her hands.  
“Are all ghosts like you?”  
“N-no,” he managed. He was rewarded with a thumb digging into the muscle at the base of his spine again. He couldn’t help but moan in response, trying his best to ignore Valerie’s chuckle. Great, barely five minutes and she’d found his sweet spot.  
“Oh, this is too easy. So, Phantom, what do you know about the ghost portals?”

It was both a dream and a nightmare. This was one form of interrogation he wasn’t used to dealing with. He had coping mechanisms for pain, but usually Sam was the only one who treated him like this. He hissed again as Valerie began kneading a particularly hard knot at the base of his neck.  
“Ghost portals,” she repeated.  
“Be more specific,” Danny groaned after a few moments’ hesitation. She paused in her ministrations. Danny rolled his shoulders experimentally. Strength was beginning to build in them again.  
“How do I know when one will appear?” she asked at last. Without her hands kneading his aching muscles Danny’s mind began to clear and he started thinking logically. He tried to pull himself up.  
“You know, I think I’ve had about enough of this.”  
Valerie pushed him down again. Danny reached deep within him for the familiar fuzzy feeling that promised intangibility. He felt like he probably had enough strength for that now at least. He tried phasing through the table, but the tingling sensation quickly turned into full-blown pain as he felt familiar volts of electricity charge through him. Immediately he yanked himself tangible and the electricity stopped. He collapsed, shaking.

“You really think you have a choice?” Valerie asked, voice sickly-sweet. “The table’s phase-proof. A gift from Mr. Masters. There’s also a ghost shield around this room. You’re not going anywhere, Phantom.”  
Danny tried vainly to push himself up again. If he could knock Valerie out he could turn human and walk right out of here. Assuming she didn’t have any cameras; he’d have to search the room first. A familiar hand between his shoulder blades stopped his thoughts short. Instead of shoving him back onto the table’s surface he was eased down gently this time, her fingers caressing the skin along his spine. Dammit, she’d figured out he was sensitive there. She’d also figured out that using force only hardened his resolve. Soft touches and a massage treating his abused back and shoulders was something he couldn’t bring himself to fight against. He instinctively associated the image of kindness with Sam, a person he’d never even _consider_ hurting. It hadn’t quite registered in his mind that the person standing above him rubbing circles into his back _wasn’t_ the warm-hearted Goth.  
“I’m getting what I want either way,” the Huntress continued. “I _can_ strap you down and electrocute you until you talk, but this seems to be pretty effective. Your choice.”

When she rubbed against the soft spot at the base of his spine they both knew it really wasn’t his choice at all. Danny closed his eyes again with a sigh. Valerie worked up his spine, moving back to the knot at the base of his neck again. Once he was sufficiently calm, she spoke.  
“So, how do I know when a ghost portal will appear?”  
Danny bit his lip hard enough he was sure he would draw blood. Or, in this form, ectoplasm. He almost managed to convince himself that he wanted to curl his hands into fists at his sides, to summon a ghost ray between his fingertips, to turn around and shoot at Valerie’s feet to scare her off, but the Huntress ran a hard thumb along his spine. So instead he squeaked out, “You can’t.”  
“What was that, ghost?”  
She pressed harder into his neck and Danny gasped as the knot there loosened and undid.   
“They’re subject to chance,” he heard himself say, “There are some regular portals like at the Bermuda Triangle but most appear naturally and at random.”  
“Very interesting,” she mused, “Good boy, Phantom.”

She pressed into his soft spot and warmth flowered along his lower back. Danny’s fingers twitched in indignation but soon stilled. He realised numbly he was being conditioned to expect a reward after giving an answer. He willed himself to sit up, to twitch his fingers – anything – but it was like getting up for school on a cold morning. He managed to faintly grasp a hold of his mind long enough to turn his face towards Valerie.  
“I’m not a dog,” he murmured. The Huntress chuckled throatily.  
“You’re about as dead as one,” she said. Danny sighed inwardly. Oh, if she only knew.   
“More like tired,” he managed, forcing himself to ignore her fingers dipping into the flesh above his collar bone, thumbs still resting against the back of his neck. Danny frowned, his eyes feeling glazy. “This is low, Huntress. You’re preying on a side of me only one person has seen. Well, two, but the other one doesn’t count. He just laughs.”  
His heart ached at the thought of Sam and Tucker. He knew it was illogical, but he felt like he was somehow betraying them. Valerie paused in her ministrations for a moment before she remembered that stopping would let Phantom clear his head. She began again, but more slowly, the strokes more deliberate now.

“You have allies then? Friends?”  
Her tone suggested she’d long guessed it. Danny’s tense silence prompted her to ask another question.  
“You don’t have a _girlfriend_ , do you? Because ew. You’re a ghost.”  
“Gee, thanks,” he snapped, feeling defensive.   
“Tell me she’s not human,” Valerie said suddenly. Danny backtracked quickly, feeling his mind rush back to him as fear buzzed along his skin.  
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he spat. He hated lying, but it was for Sam’s own safety. “I just don’t appreciate you thinking I’m disgusting. Especially when you’ve been running your hands along my back for the past, what, fifteen minutes?”  
That caused Valerie to reel back suddenly, swearing under her breath and yelling a mantra of _‘yuck, what am I doing? Yuck, yuck yuck!’_  
Danny grinned. Fear for Sam’s safety had woken Danny’s mind from its fuzzy stupor, and he took his chance. He flew up, suit still dangling by his waist, and shot a few ecto-blasts at Valerie’s feet. She stumbled back into a weapon’s shelf, sending the machines skidding along the floor. Danny glanced around the room. It was largely bare; no room to hide a camera, except- there! Near the table, tucked between a book on the traditions of ghost hunting and a small chest. He summoned a ghost-ray, feeling the cold sting his fingertips, and fired, destroying the device. The chest fell to the floor with a bang; Danny took no notice, instead choosing to pick up the forgotten frozen peas on the floor. He took them over to Valerie, who was making a stand, gripping an oversized ecto-gun tightly. He put up his hands in mock surrender.  
“You going to give me another scar?” he quipped, a lopsided grin making its way onto his face. He really couldn’t help himself. He pointed to a bare patch on his stomach. “I’ve got some room there if you want.”

It had the desired effect. Valerie faltered and Danny shot forward, grabbing a blanket folded on the corner of a table and flying back to the Huntress. He brought it over her eyes with a muffled yelp from the woman and tied it at the back of her head. He couldn’t bring himself to knock her out. She hadn’t _actually_ hurt him. Well, besides being electrocuted by her table, he guessed. Danny knocked the gun out of her hands and flew them to the opposite side of the room, spinning Valerie around to disorientate her. She was yelling muffled obscenities at him but he paid little heed, especially when she collapsed in a dizzy heap, fumbling with the knot at the back of her head. Danny sped to the doorway, prodding the green sheen there experimentally. The shield was totally solid. With a final glance to make sure Valerie was still struggling with her blindfold, he transformed human and walked through the doorway, frozen peas still in hand.  
“Phantom!”  
He turned curiously back to the Huntress, who was still stumbling about with the blanket and desperately reaching for a gun. Seeing the multitude of weapons scattered across the floor Danny didn’t dare stay. He transformed back and phased through the ceiling, ignoring Valerie’s threats echoing through the brick of the building. He surfaced, expecting to feel warm sunlight, but instead was greeted with the cold of night. Stars winked far above him, scattered clouds dimming them and a stiff wind ruffling his hair. He quickly shrugged on his suit and zipped it up before placing the peas against his forehead. The cold was welcome. The thought that it was likely past his curfew was not. With a sigh he started off toward home, knowing the neighbourhood. He wasn’t too far away. If nothing else, he thought as he experimentally rolled his shoulders and arched his spine, he felt more relaxed than he had this morning.   
“I should let Val catch me more often,” he said with a grin, enjoying for the moment the rush of wind past his face and the cold of the peas against his forehead.   
“Oh god, Sam’s never going to forgive me.”


End file.
